Mr. Boggs said, “Stand here.”
I moved to the position against the office wall, looking toward the open space. Carol stood in the open space. She had removed her uniform. It was neatly folded and sitting on top of the desk. Mr. Boggs had made her fold each piece exactly as if she were putting away her laundry and for each mistake, there have been two, she had to put the garment back on, take it off and try again. The action seemed ruthless.
He opened a cabinet behind the desk and retrieved the medium sized lexan paddle. It cast a temporary reflection of me in it as he turned it toward Carol’s backside. She couldn’t see his approach, but the shiver that ran down her spine told me she knew he was coming. He touched the clear paddle against her buttocks.
“Touch your toes,” he said.
She widened her stance an extra couple of inches and bent forward. Her butt seemed to be pushing itself higher into the air and firmer against the paddle. She closed her eyes rather than looked at me through her parted legs. I wished I had the same luxury, but Mr. Boggs had already made it clear he expected me to watch.
He looked back toward me. “Pay attention, Britney. A monitor must learn how to deliver a good spanking if she’s to gain the respect of her peers.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied. It was probably unnecessary, but I felt certain that a single mistake in my behavior while in the office would result in me assuming the same position as Carol. I preferred watching to participating.
He raised the paddle, not so much up into the air as back away from her butt. When he swung, the paddle cut through the air with a whir and the impact echoed like a hammer driving home a nail. The flesh of butt was squished, flattened underneath the paddle. And when it pulled back, her butt bounced while the skin colored with flush of hot blood.
The strain in Carol’s voice explained how much it hurt. “One, Sir.”
He delivered another fifteen swats in the exact same manner. Carol’s breathing turned ragged and I could see tears slipping from behind her eyelids by the sixth of them. Her voice quivered and broke and she even sobbed a bit on the last two. Her butt turned darker and darker, the skin glistening under the paddle’s relentless attack. I watched it all, blinking at each impact, but reopening my eyes in an instant. It might have been fear of getting caught, but also on some level I did want Carol to learn her lesson about bullying, abusing the power of her position. Getting spanked was part of life at Rosecliff and we all accepted that, but it went down easier when we knew it was by a fair interpretation of the rules that we were being punished.
Mr. Boggs turned back toward me and motioned me forward. “It’s your turn.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”
He put the paddle in my hand and stepped away from Carol. “Aim for the center of her buttocks and swing with control, not power.”
I hefted the paddle in my hand, it’s balance felt awkward, heavy toward the tip. It took me a moment to find a comfortable grip. I aimed it against her butt and looked at Mr. Boggs. It seemed unreal that he wanted me to paddle her.
He nodded. “Give her between five and ten swats. It’s your choice.”
With Mr. Boggs choice was a pseudonym for test. If I gave her too few, he’d consider it a failure and if I gave too many he’d consider it just as bad. Finding the balance between right and wrong or in this case deserved and undeserved was the point of the exercise.
I decided on eight. It felt incredible to deliver them. The slight rattle of the paddle on impact was like a buzz of approval in my palm. Hearing Carol count and politely call me, Miss while a faint sob strained her voice felt a lot like justice. Maybe being a monitor wasn’t such a bad thing. I could make things fair, hold my peers accountable for the wrong deeds they’d done.
After the last swat, I held the paddle at my side and reached out toward her naked, quivering butt. It felt hot, not quite the same burning Carol likely felt from the inside, but warm to touch like she’d stood too close to a fire. And that was the truth in a certain light.
“Well done,” Mr. Boggs said. “Escort Carol upstairs and have her move her things into your room and your things into her former room.”I handed the paddle back to Mr. Boggs. “Yes, Sir.” I grabbed Carol’s arm. “Come along Carol, you’ve got work to do.”